The Launch is On: My Last Friends on Earth

I’m writing to share a moment. After years of work, my new YA sci-fi/fantasy novel My Last Friends on Earth is finished. And I'm still in love with it. In fact, the love got deeper recently in the fine-tuning. Maximizing moments. Elevating themes through action. It was thrilling.

Some of you know my creative work from novels (Understanding Ken), documentaries (Facing Ali, Spirit Unforgettable), or my music.

My creativity has always reflected and reshaped what I believe, what I’m trying to understand, or what I still hope is possible. The energy and spirit of this book feels like the truest reflection of those ideas, hopes, and dreams—for our kids, for us, for the future—minus the dystopian setting.

My Last Friends on Earth is a story about what it means to fight back—even against impossible odds and terrible enemies—without losing your soul. I wanted it big-themed and big-hearted.

Three young fugitives—a fifteen-year-old raised in a data lab, a sixteen-year-old warrior, and a nine-year-old genius—discover that friendship, unlikely allies, a little courage, kindness, and uncovering the hidden truth of human history may be their only hope against a ruthless, invading empire. I mean who hasn't felt that?

The writing journey itself was a battle—compared to, say, Understanding Ken. But it had a familiar pattern with the writing process: the more I rewrote, the clearer and more real the characters’ voices became, until any time I was close to giving up, they’d wake me in the night yelling, “Shut up and rewrite, idiot! We’re risking our lives here!”

They were loud.

With the launch approaching, I’ll be posting short updates—behind-the-scenes moments, early looks, and the official launch link.

I’ll definitely need support with the launch—to fight the algorithm. Can we conquer (tame?) that beast? Together? God knows.

Either way, thank you so much for being part of this journey to come. It means a lot to me—and even more to the kids in the story.

For the record, they’re still on the run. I think I’ve lost my mind.

With gratitude,

Pete